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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26147716">oh worm</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/bee_bro/pseuds/bee_bro'>bee_bro</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>tma h/c week, babes [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Magnus Archives (Podcast)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - No Entities, Confessions, F/F, First Kiss, Fluff, Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, Misunderstandings, Nikola is a theater kid, Poetry club, TMAHCweek, The Magnus Archives Hurt/Comfort Week, but shes very lofi abt it, girls crying in a bathroom solidarity, not beta read i myself die like man, skateboarder!jane, teen rating for mild swearing, the narrative bullies elias</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 11:35:07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,383</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26147716</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/bee_bro/pseuds/bee_bro</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>How much harm can a poem do? (Or, really, how much good?)</p><p>-<br/>or, jane writes a gay yearning poem and it somehow gets around to nikola but, and here's the thing, under a penname.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Nikola Orsinov/Jane Prentiss</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>tma h/c week, babes [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1895815</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>68</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>heyyo time for some classic jock/poetry nerd vibes ,all aboard say aye</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Coming from the small-town high school of bookworm misery, Jane is more than elated to find her college has a timid yet very much existing poetry club. It’s only her and seven more kids, all under the occasional monitoring of a literature teacher Jane never got introduced to. They meet twice a week, dissect other poems and get prompts for their own. It’s a good hide-away for their band of mostly quiet and self-contained people, and Jane finds it rather comforting. The peace lies unbroken for two months until midway through one of their meetings, a student Jane doesn’t recognize walks in.</p><p>She’s wickedly tall and equally beautiful, already smiling, which elicits only one word in Jane’s head: <em>jock. </em></p><p>“Nerds!” the student exclaims, “I have a preposition!” she immediately addresses the leader of their club, vaguely ignoring everyone else.</p><p>Jane, at the far end of the room, leans over to Amherst and whispers, “Who is that?”</p><p>“Nikola,” he leans down and whispers back, “Leader of most drama productions here, you’ll see her a lot more when play-season starts.”</p><p>“Huh,” Jane looks back at Nikola, wearing a tight star-print button up and red checkered pants. She’s discussing… helping with a play, their club leader nodding along while looking unenthusiastic but complacent. Before leaving, Nikola sticks a hand out but the handshake is more akin what football bros do on the field and Jane will be thinking about Nikola’s arms for a couple of days. She almost crashes her skateboard on her way to the dorms, thinking.</p><p>This starts the worst – and at least Jane is self-aware – period of yearning in her life.</p><p>Nikola emcees the next charity talent show they do, for which Jane has been roped into volunteering. Jane comes rather close to letting her tray with refreshments lean to far to the side, stopped just in time by Timothy, bless his weird little heart. She’s also unsurprised to know Nikola was once a cheerleader, and the way she learns this happens to be walking in on Nikola and her old cheerleader buddies messing around in the gym after classes. And apparently Nikola had recruited their club-leader to write some poetry for the upcoming play later on, meaning she’ll be coming in to discuss the plot and requirements with their club eventually… oh god.</p><p>This all culminates in their new poetry prompt given one week: they are to write something classically romantic.</p><p>What can Jane do?</p><p>Amherst squints at the paper, “<em>The untamed force of sunset’s fire, A smile to make my heart expire, The rightful queen of Thespis’ throne, That I can’t dream to make my own.” </em>He lowers the poem, letting the other eight lines go unacknowledged and stares at Jane, “This is about Nikola.”</p><p>“What? No it’s not. I don’t even know her.”</p><p>“Then who?”</p><p>“Look, Amherst, the prompt was something romantic, it never said anything about realism. Didn’t Manuela write about her favorite show again? How is this worse.”</p><p>“These are getting displayed on the literature board.”</p><p>“I know.”</p><p>“You’re going to display a poem about Nikola.”</p><p>“No I’m not because it’s not about Nikola and I’m putting it up under a penname.”</p><p>It’s about Nikola and Jane’s penname is <em>worm on a string </em>and she does her best to focus on the skatepark’s turns instead of focusing on Nikola’s smile.</p><p>The poems are up for one day and then Jane’s disappears.</p><p>Straight up the paper is gone from its place on the corkboard, only the tips of it remain where they were held back by staples.</p><p>Amherst only shrugs, “I don’t know what to tell you.”</p><p>He doesn’t need to tell her anything, she just nods to him politely and leaves to use the bathroom. Jane cries in the farthest stall from the door for fifteen minutes. Not because her poem <em>about Nikola</em> was torn down but because <em>her poem was torn down. </em>Above any crush, first comes her dignity as an artist and this is where it hurts. That poem could’ve been about Mac N Cheese or spaghetti and it’d hurt the same.</p><p>Someone comes into the room.</p><p>Jane goes quiet in the stall, attempting to calm her breath and not freak the other girl out. She hears shuffling and then a pause, and then a cautious, “Any snitches in here?”</p><p>“No,” Jane speaks up, startled, but it comes out a bit weird, enough to prompt a response.</p><p>“Oh shit, are you crying? Girl, you stall isn’t even locked,” and Nikola peeks in with an unlit cigarette in her mouth. “Jane, right?”</p><p>Jane wipes her tears quickly, only moments later realizing her hands come away with running mascara. Oh god this is embarrassing, she will never talk to Nikola again, it’s ok, she can live with it, it’s not like they’ve even talked before. Yes. It’s alright- shit she’s crying again, first her poem now this-</p><p>Nikola squats in front of her where Jane sits on the closed toilet lid, “Hey, what’s up?” It’s weird to hear her without the engrained smile that usually makes all of her words sound like a comedy line.</p><p>Jane tries to wave it off but there’s more tears coming because people being kind just fucking does that to you and she ends up starting to full-on sob, at which point she feels Nikola climb onto the toilet seat behind her and hug her from the back, letting Jane cry her makeup loose and feel Nikola’s substantial height advantage as she’s hugged.</p><p>Nikola helps her wash off the black streaks later, and Jane asks, a bit obstructed by the mascara getting scrubbed off her face, “Why are you helping me, we don’t know each other.”</p><p>“Eh, I also came here to vent. Elias is ruining my life again.”</p><p>“Who’s Elias?”</p><p>“Imagine every English and Maths honor society as a person.”</p><p>“Wait, short, slicked-back hair, green suit? Looks like an edgy Onceler cosplay?”</p><p>Nikola leans back a bit, then a huge smile stretches her face, “That’s the one!”</p><p>“I hate him,” Jane blinks away excess water as Nikola dabs at her eyes one final time, “He tried to make me do unpaid labor last week and then spent ten minutes insulting me when I said no. I put soil on his e-bike.”</p><p>Nikola cackles, “That’s right, stick it to the man!” She says it with a familiar tune and Jane smiles timidly.</p><p>“School of Rock?”</p><p>“You like theater?” There’s a recruiter’s spark in Nikola’s eyes all of a sudden and it’s really goddamn pretty having her this close and finishing getting old makeup off Jane’s face.</p><p>Her next comment slips out against better judgment. “Yes, I’m gay.” She’s had brighter moments.</p><p>Nikola chortles again so maybe it’s worth it, “Living the life I see, related to the crying fit?”</p><p>“Not… directly.”</p><p>“Anything I can help with?”</p><p>Jane can tell it’s not all sincere, Nikola is more polite and humored than the sincerely concerned breed of people Jane’s met before, “You’re helping now, thank you.”</p><p>“Aye.”</p><p>She studies the still unlit cigarette behind Nikola’s ear, “What about you? You said you were angry about something.”</p><p>Nikola doesn’t answer for a moment, having begun reapplying Jane’s makeup from a kit she unsurprisingly had in her bag. Jane watches her chew her lip a bit like she’s weighing the pros and cons of telling.</p><p>“A lovesick fool wrote an embarrassing poem about me and fucking displayed it to the school.”</p><p>Jane’s heart drops, she chuckles in a way she prays isn’t nervous, “And do you know who?”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. by the way</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>hey so this kept getting far too lengthy so now its its own chapter. the final one will be after this so hang on babes</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em>Oh, great, here it is</em>, Jane watches the frown on Nikola’s face, her brows are so masterfully drawn on it’s frankly impressive, <em>here I will be dead</em>.</p><p>“And who is it?” She asks, ready to hear the answer: <em>I know it’s you</em>.</p><p>Nikola sighs, “Fucking Elias.”</p><p>“Oh okay,” Jane says meekly, “Okay, cool.”</p><p>“Not no <em>cool. </em>God I hate him and here he is purposefully posting poems about me like I won’t get clowned on for it. Fucker.”</p><p>Jane doesn’t dare ask why Nikola has somehow pinned Elias as the poet and lets her finish fixing Jane’s makeup. When she’s done she pats Jane’s shoulder on the side and it jostles Jane rather bad, and that’s the first time they talk and Jane decides to walk instead of letting herself crash on the skateboard.</p><p>“Wait so-”</p><p>“Yeah she uh thought it was Elias.”</p><p>“Business-major Elias or basketball Elias?” Amherst asks her over the phone.</p><p>Jane blanks, trying to remember if they have a basketball player called Elias at all and can’t remember, “No, uh, business major.”</p><p>“Huh, he writes poetry?”</p><p>“I don’t know,” Jane sighs, “But apparently he likes making Nikola’s life harder so for some reason she thinks it’s his doing. I dodged a bullet practically.”</p><p>“So she reapplied your makeup in the girl’s bathroom and you <em>didn’t </em>kiss? Bye.” Amherst laughs on the other side of the line and Jane tries to convince him one more time there is <em>nothing </em>gay going on at all, there can’t be, they’ll never talk again and that’s fine.</p><p>Amherst replies with scathing sarcasm and Jane tells him she’s hanging up in favor of calling her parents. It’s not a lie, and as she waits for her mom’s skype to connect, she makes it a point in her head to not talk about Nikola as much as she did last time. Because this is a dead-end kind of crush and there’s no point getting invested, really.</p><p>“Hey, your aunt works in the crystals shop, right?” Nikola’s voice catches Jane <em>badly </em>off guard as she’s gathering a stack of books at the library shelves, causing two to topple from the shelf Jane was trying to reach. Barely looking, Nikola catches them and puts them back, reaching effortlessly, and asks again, “Yeah?”</p><p>Jane tries to catch up to the first question and a bit lost, nods.</p><p>“Cool, can you convince her to give me a discount for something, I know that it’s like a shady move to make but we need an ‘amulet’ for our play and your aunt basically sells glorified glass so…”</p><p>Jane sets the books she was holding down, still reeling, “Uh, yeah, sorry, um.” Right, okay, Nikola’s here again, ok, “W-what kind do you need?”</p><p>“Yeah jeez they have a lot right? Are you free after classes cause it’d be super cool if you could come along, I’ll buy you coffee as payment?” Nikola smiles and Jane recognizes this immediately as that inherent theater kid vocal assault of ‘do me a favor please’ where they rope you into helping them for practically free.</p><p>“Coffee?” Jane’s brain lags behind a bit and she parrots it without much thought as Nikola leans one elbow on the library shelf to even their heights out.</p><p>“Yeah, or tea or a milkshake, whatever you like, cool?”</p><p>“Um,” Jane can already hear Amherst laughing at her and probably using the word ‘simp’ like he just learned it yesterday, but god she can’t say no. So she doesn’t.</p><p>And three hours later Nikola is waiting for her off-campus, tapping her shoe, hands shoved into her gray jean pockets. This is a business trip. This is a theater kid buying props trip, Jane keeps telling herself as she approaches, this is not friends hanging out, not at all. Forget anything about friends, you are a means to an end.</p><p>Nikola throws up a hand in a wave and Jane nods back, hands busy carrying her skateboard. She levels with Nikola and points with her chin down the road, “The shop’s that way.” And as they begin walking, Jane is out of the blue stuck with a very interesting question indeed.</p><p>She looks up at Nikola, who seems to be eyeing the skate, “Hey, how did you know it was my aunt working there?”</p><p>Nikola looks up and if not for her stellar make-up Jane might’ve seen a vague blush, “Oh uh, I was snooping around cause google maps said they sold crystals and your aunt saw me.”</p><p>“Uh-huh?”</p><p>“She, uh, she asked me if I was Nikola and I said yes why and she said she was your aunt, trust me I’m just as mystified.” She shrugs and luckily doesn’t look at Jane as the full scope of this interaction’s implications sets in.</p><p>Fuck so. So… Jane has definitely described Nikola to her mom. Shown her pictures of Nikola from last year’s play’s program. Did… did her mom fucking send pictures of Nikola to the family facebook groupchat? How does her aunt know what Nikola looks like??? What the hell.</p><p>Nikola breaks her out of the tangent with a casual: "So you skate?"</p><p>Jane shifts the board under her arm, feeling its painted underside with her fingers out of habit, "Uh, more for convenience, it's easier to deal with than a bike."</p><p>Nikola slants her eyes at Jane, "Didn't pin you for the type, what with wearing mostly dresses. And being in poetry club."</p><p>"M, well I'm not doing flips or anything, plus," Jane hikes up her current red dress a few inches to show the beginning of black leggings, "I'm reinforced against getting Marilyn-Monroed."</p><p>Nikola barks out a laugh, "Some people just wear leggings with nothing else, so I suppose you’re ahead of the game.”</p><p>“Way to bash on all your cheerleader friends when they dress casual,” Jane shrugs.</p><p>“Woah, Nikola’s-wikipedia-page-editor speaking here? I haven’t done cheerleading since uh.. wow, years.”</p><p>Jane can feel herself going a bit red, “Sorry, I’ve just seen you practicing.”</p><p>Nikola doesn’t seem to take it too hard and smiles instead, “And?”</p><p>“And what?”</p><p>“Was it good?” She winks and Jane tries to frown away her blush.</p><p>“I don’t know, I’m not an expert and cheerleading.” They’re another two minutes from the crystals store, and then she can weasel out of this vein of the conversation.</p><p>“Aw, come on, I still got some of that cheerleader stuff in me, no?” And before Jane can begrudgingly confirm, Nikola slips her laptop purse off and in the same fluid motion does a wickedly precise cartwheel. Her boots her up in the air and come down in a practiced well-tuned arc and Nikola pops back up from the sidewalk, “Yeah?”</p><p>Jane can only make sure her mouth is closed and nod, eyes wide, having stopped walking.</p><p>Nikola flicks finger guns at her and then, completely fucking unprompted, leans forward and then sends herself into a backflip.</p><p>This actually startles a sharp <em>what the fuck </em>from Jane which makes Nikola laugh after landing.</p><p>“Are… What- Is… is being able to do a backflip a cheerleader requirement?” Jane asks, staring really hard at Nikola who’s grinning, having picked her bag back up.</p><p>“Nope, just learned that for fun.”</p><p>“Wild,” Jane deadpans with still raised brows and shocked eyes, “Okay, yeah, you, uh, good job.”</p><p>“Pff,” They start walking again and now Nikola skips ahead to walk backwards and face Jane, “Thanks, I gotta keep my options open.”</p><p>“For what?” Jane watches both Nikola and the street in front of them in case Nikola runs into somebody.</p><p>“Don’t know, like if a circus shows up and I just gotta run away, you think they’d take me if I wasn’t proficient in at least something? Could be a clown.”</p><p>“I mean, don’t you direct?” Jane finds it incredibly difficult to hold eye contact as they walk facing each other, “You’re cutting yourself short, ringmaster sounds more probable.”</p><p>Somehow, strangely enough this makes Nikola do a funny little smile and drift back to facing the right way, walking by Jane’s side, “You missed such a good Segway into calling me a clown but I’ll take it.”</p><p>They stop in front of the crystals shop.</p><p>Jane changes her skate to another arm, “Okay, be civil, don’t draw my aunt into conversation, and pick something that’s not behind glass.”</p><p>Nikola turns to her, “Why the latter?”</p><p>“Well,” Jane smiles and holds the door open, “That’s where they keep their most magical ones.”</p><p>Nikola, who Jane had pinned long ago enough as a natural skeptic, sputters but is ushered inside, where the air conditioner blasts them along with the smell of incense and the quiet loll of some acoustic music. She immediately prepares to the onslaught that is her aunt, who no doubt will have something to say about everything. Janette is also who Jane’s named after and the sixty-four year old woman gives Jane a pretty good idea what she might look like when she hits the same age. The woman may be old but – and Jane hates to think it’s crystal related – remain up on her feet with remarkable resilience. She emerges from behind the counter, headed straight at them, “Oh my wonderful girls!”</p><p>“Hey Auntie,” Jane smiles and accepts the hug, hoping to divert Janette’s attention before she can go in to hug Nikola too, “My uh, classmate would like to get some crystals for her play, but the school theater budget isn’t too high” (Jane has no clue if that’s the case but she needs to make a compelling argument) “So is there any way for us to look at the more um… the crystals that would be fine glue-gunned to a prop?”</p><p>Janette nods enthusiastically and starts leading them into the shop, all the way to a basket full of smaller, dubiously ‘just colored glass’ crystals. Jane watches Nikola throw her head every which way as they’re lead there, looking at the shelves with a wonderous air, tall displays of jewels and jars, candles, fairy lights from the ceiling catch in her eyes not unlike stars.  Shit, Jane tears her eyes away and tries to not write poetry in the moment.</p><p>“Here’s a good tub of… my more innocent little babes,” And her aunt leans over to Jane with a conspirator’s smile, “For people’s fish tanks and gardens.”</p><p>“Thanks Auntie,” Jane smiles at her, waiting to be left alone as to minimize the danger of embarrassment., “We’ll take a look.”</p><p>“Well, I’ll go then,” the older woman smiles, “You girls don’t get up to funny business here.”</p><p>As she walks away Nikola whispers, “Did she mean stealing?”</p><p>Jane, red, nods and rushes out, “Yeah she meant stealing.” She sets her skateboard out of accidental stepping range and turns to the basket.</p><p>And now they dig.</p><p>You can get elbow-deep in the basket, which Nikola does very soon, weaving her hands in and then pulling out palms-full of various plasticy or glassy gems, more marveling than actually looking for her props. And since Jane has no clue what the play needs, all she can do is vaguely run her hands through the crystals and in turn marvel at Nikola.</p><p>She’s fully engrossed in just pulling up fake gems from the bottom of the pile, shoving her hands back in and puling up more, face calm and concentrated and Jane can’t get enough.</p><p>She reasons to look away before she’s caught and clears her throat lest her voice come out a bit weird, “I should be able to haggle the price down, if not charm her into gifting us these, I know she has too many and they’re dirt cheap where she gets them from. What are you looking for?”</p><p>Nikola glances up, hands still vanished in the recesses of smooth glass, “Um,” her face scrunches up a little as if the question’s caught her off guard, “Some decorations for, hm, to put on the school calliope so it looks all mysterious.”</p><p>“You can glue-gun stuff to school instruments?”</p><p>“I- and uh the princess’ crown.”</p><p>Jane looks at the pile of gems, “Any unified color aesthetic?”</p><p>“I’m, uh, the stage manager I don’t- red. Red’s good.”</p><p>“Red…” And Jane starts searching, randomly beginning to accumulate red-tinted gems on top of the pile, “Do you do anything else aside from stage managing?”</p><p>Nikola chuckles, “Anything else? Well, I’m shopping for the prop department now. Among other things, god, I gotta paint the backdrop with fucking oil paints this week.”</p><p>Jane pulls out more red gems, “Crap, sorry, I meant like, acting. Other official professions, not the twenty side ones that come with being in charge. Do you go on stage?”</p><p>This seems to catch Nikola a bit off guard once more and she laughs nervously, “Haven’t in a while. I sometimes join improv nights but I usually run this stuff.”</p><p>“Ringmaster already, then?” Jane smiles at her and Nikola looks up.</p><p>When she looks back down she’s smiling too, “I suppose.”</p><p>“When’s the play?”</p><p>“In about two weeks.”</p><p>Jane smiles, “Ooo, you’re getting our club leader to write stuff, yeah?”</p><p>“You wanna help?”</p><p>“I’m not too good,” Jane shrugs, “I can just make some stuff rhyme in one style.”</p><p>There’s a bit of a sigh from Nikola by her side, “Aye, pulling on all my resources.”</p><p>“Got the entire school to be your resources,” Jane jokes and their knuckles accidentally brush in the gem basket, “You getting art club or art class to help with the painting? You mentioned the backdrops.”</p><p>“No, they’ve been making the posters and I can’t pull more favors, the teacher’s gonna kick me for it,” Nikola shrugs and there’s an open tiredness to her stature. Jane leans over to bump their shoulders.</p><p>“What needs doing?”</p><p>“Just two backdrops, a forest and a city street, shouldn't take more than a few hours.”</p><p>Jane chews on her bottom lip, lifting yet another red gem. She’s been warned against getting pulled into the orbit of theater but she’s definitely too far into the orbit of Nikola and that’s almost the same.</p><p>Jane says it rather quietly, unsure of how much Nikola wants to continue sharing her company, “I can help. I also have spray paint so that might be… faster.”</p><p>The girl next to her practically straightens up, turning to face Jane, startlingly enough to make Jane stand taller too and look. There’s a repressed smile on Nikola’s face, almost hopeful, “I don’t want to like force you…”</p><p>“No, um, it’s okay…” At least Jane hopes it’s okay, “Cut the time in half, yknow?”</p><p>They end up cutting the time down to <em>one fifth </em>of the five hours Nikola was expecting to spend painting.</p><p>They’d left the crystals shop with an indeed free bag of colored glass, had skipped out on the promised coffee (delayed in the interest of getting to the dorms in time), and had split their ways. Jane had, the moment Nikola vanished from view, pulled out her phone to text Amherst with whiplash efficiency, and almost walked into a pole, trying to juggle her skateboard.</p><p>They meet two days later in a parking lot by a building that’s been an abandoned project for years according to Nikola. Jane shows up with nothing but a duffel of promised spray paint cans, the same ones she’d used to paint the underside of her skateboard with a winding, colorful worm-on-a-string.</p><p>She hops off her skateboard as she rolls into the premises and sees Nikola with two giant canvasses standing around and smoking. Nikola waves back and throws her cigarette down.</p><p>“You try so hard to pretend you’re not cool,” She shouts at Jane as Jane approaches, grinning.</p><p>“What’s that mean, hi by the way.”</p><p>“By the way hello indeed,” Nikola smiles, she’s wearing jeans and a shirt that have definitely seen painting accidents and Jane’s brought masks for the spray paint. “I mean, you got a skateboard, you got spray paint, you’re hitting all the stereotype details and yet.”</p><p>“And yet,” Jane shrugs with a smile and unzips the duffel after lowering it.</p><p>Nikola leans over her and she smells of smoke and theater make-up, also the wax of the canvasses. “I got the concept sketches for these two babies but you’ll have to lead.”</p><p>Jane retrieves the base layer cans and feels her face go red, “Well, director ma’am, let’s get on it.</p><p>And they’re done in an <em>hour. </em>The insane amount of pressure it’s taken off Nikola is palpable when she whoops and does another cartwheel, spray paint on her upper arm and all over her knee, and it’s all there when she picks Jane up in a bear hug and spins them, cackling. Jane’s laughing too and is, most of all confused at the amount of elation, it’s only really a saved four hours, but Nikola sets her down and says, after I deliver the finished canvasses back to the campus, wanna go spend the won four hours somewhere? She’s assured to pay back that coffee promise. Jane doubts she can spend four hours with Nikola without combusting and that Nikola can spend four hours with her without growing bored but they stop at the campus, leave the backdrops, and walk to the local small-business café, all the while Jane grills Nikola about her mysterious summer job at an amusement park.</p><p>And then they just… sit down. And talk. Nikola has a nice diction that Jane could listen to forever, and she gets to talk to, even ending up on tangents without realizing, and Nikola sips her weird radioactive-looking soda drink and nods as Jane nurses tea and describes a trip to a gross biology museum their school took them to.</p><p>And, with all her fear of somehow not making it four hours, it gets dark outside and only when Nikola gets an insistent call from one of the two Russian twins, do either notice it’s somehow been not four but five and a half hours in a single café.</p><p>“Wow I…”</p><p>“Yeah I should get going.”</p><p>“Me too.”</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>They stand at the exit of the café before going separate ways and Jane shrugs her bag onto her shoulder, one foot on the skate. Nikola looks like she doesn’t know what the hell to do with her arms.</p><p>She finally smiles her huge winner grin and goes, “By the way I guess, bye.”</p><p>Jane snorts, “By the way bye.”</p><p>They leave and Jane tries really hard not to look back, at least in the interest of not crashing.</p><p>She finds herself smiling against the wind in her face and wondering when she’ll get a chance to talk to her again. What other outlandish assistance will land her in the company of such an enigmatic person.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>this is not beta read so if you peeps find some emberassing mistakes....hm.u....</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. sounds good</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>aye! thanks for being patient guys &gt;:) im back w the last bit i hope you enjoy~</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The fact they met up outside of school has landed Jane with Nikola’s contact. And for two days Jane has no clue what to do with it. What can you send? Memes, a nice ‘good morning’, y’know, literally anything right? Jane stares at her screen every once in a while, at their last message exchange before they’d met up for the spray painting, looking at the cut-off conversation. She should say something. It’s a sensible thing to do, no?</p><p>And yet, Nikola had repaid her debts, bought Jane a drink, and that’s it, end of their businesslike friendship, no? No, Jane wakes up to a mid-night text.</p><p>It’s a picture from rehearsal, over-exposed with the stage lights, but the backdrops they’d painted are visible. The picture is followed by a <em>they look fucking amazing, just a few days until the premiere.</em></p><p>Jane runs sleep out of her eyes and smiles, <em>I think I’m dragging Amherst to it with me. You feeling good about it?</em></p><p>Nikola doesn’t text until a few hours later but when she does, it’s an affirmative and surprise about Amherst as apparently she’s known him for having a history of barely attending student plays.</p><p>The same day Jane carefully watches over Amherst to make sure he does indeed buy a ticket next to her own.</p><p>“Why do you insist on this? Why hurt me so?” He pays for it begrudgingly, “You know she’s not going to be on stage, right?”</p><p>“Whatever, shut up, it’s partially her play.” Jane frowns at him, “Plus, you can see the backdrops I helped make, don’t you want to marvel at my contribution to the community?”</p><p>He sighs, “Just don’t make me pay for the flowers I know you’ll buy.”</p><p>Jane wants to argue but soon it’s performance night and she shows up with a bag of single roses for each actor and a bouquet for Nikola (not roses! That’d be too on the nose). The play is that classic mix of cringey moments and at times surprisingly well-done technique that most student productions are and Amherst doesn’t fall asleep so it’s a win. The protagonist does read out a poem at some point for the love interest and Jane recognizes the work of their club leader, and soon the play rounds up and the stage is filled with those who’ve worked on it, at which point parents and devout theater student supporters drift over to hand out flowers. When Jane passes the bouquet to a bowing Nikola, who’s dressed to the nines in a red suit, Nikola meets her eyes and grins wide at the sight of her, winking. And in a fluid movement, Nikola accepts the flowers simultaneously to picking up Jane’s hand and giving it a fast, brief kiss on the knuckles. She straightens out and the house lights start coming on as the curtain falls, and there they go.</p><p>Amherst is waiting for Jane with a kind of expression that promises endless teasing, “Did I see what I saw?”</p><p>“Frankly,” Jane punches him in the shoulder as they walk out with the crowd, “I don’t think you saw <em>anything.”</em></p><p>“Sure,” he whistles and they file out into the evening air, the play having concluded late. Amherst doesn’t live in the dorms and heads for his bike after miming kissing Jane’s hand too, making her go red in anger and threaten to dispose of his ant colony.</p><p>Jane goes to rub at the back of her hand to chase away the feeling of Nikola’s lips in fear it’ll burn her up with blush and notices that there’s a distinctive lip-print left on her skin, courtesy of Nikola’s heavy stage make-up. She leaves it there, her chest feeling like a hundred buzzing bees, and she knows she’ll never fall asleep while feeling like this, she needs to do a few laps around campus on her skate to calm down, let some of that jitteriness out.</p><p>Three laps don’t help, it’s too monotonous to distract from the looping replay of the hand kiss, and Jane resigns, deciding to up it a notch. There’s a skatepark the opposite direction of her dorms and honestly, it’s far too late for the decision to be sensible but she can’t fathom going back to her room right now and just… going to sleep. She barely skates outside of convenient trip shortcuts, but she knows how to. And Nikola’s been right, Jane doesn’t look the part, and that’s okay, the place is strangely empty, lit with yellow, tall lampposts, and Jane rolls up to it, dropping her bag on the edge before diving into the cement dip of the skatepark. This is better, this is faster and more taxing, and Jane ties her skirt up and does circles around the smooth and wavy dips and curves, letting herself get lost in the adrenaline of skating instead of the adrenaline that comes with Nikola.</p><p>A group of loud teens passes on the other side of the road and Jane doesn’t look over, at least glad they’re not fellow skaters, as she’d rather have her embarrassing barely finessed technique to herself.</p><p>She doesn’t go for any of the harder sections at first, opting just to lose herself in loops and loops along the bottom and walls of the park, but that’s only at first. It’s true, the speed and potential danger of skinning a knee and breaking a wrist chases her thoughts away, she’s just there for the thrill of it now, and soon Jane eyes up the ramps, things she hasn’t done since a year ago and wonders if she’ll land.</p><p>She does. It’s euphoric, coming up to a metal railing and jumping on, skidding down and finally sticking the landing with the shock of it momentarily making her ankles sing. And as she slows down from the impact, she hears faint, lone, clapping.</p><p>Jane quickly disboards and looks over, and there, sitting at the edge of the skatepark with her legs hanging over the edge and into the pit, framed by the yellow streetlamp behind her, is Nikola.</p><p>She stops clapping and cups her hands to her face, shouting, “And you said you didn’t do tricks.”</p><p>Jane’s heart races both from the ramp and from trying to guess how long Nikola’s watched her. And why she’s here at all. God, what the hell.</p><p>But her feet start carrying her in Nikola’s direction and she speeds up, stepping onto her board and gliding the rest of the way, doing a few final pushes before the ground begins to steep as to gain momentum and reach Nikola without having to pull herself up. Out of the pit, Jane disboards once more and comes to sit next to Nikola, breathing heavily and trying not to.</p><p>It’s dark now, and they sit, watching the sprawl of graffiti along the skatepark, Jane’s board resting in her lap, wheels up.</p><p>“That’s barely a trick,” Jane tries to laugh it off, “I rarely dabble.”</p><p>“You put me on that thing and I’ll go face down,” Nikola bumps their shoulders, “So it’s pretty impressive.”</p><p>“Why’re you here?” Jane tries to change the topic, her face burning, “It’s late.”</p><p>“We finished cleaning up and were heading this way for the afterparty,” Nikola shrugs, looking out over the park and the playground further away. The light plays off her eyes and lashes and Jane can’t stop looking.</p><p>“You don’t seem like someone to skip out the party…”</p><p> Nikola sighs, a small smile crawling onto her face, “Saw you skating, couldn’t pass it up.” And Jane notices the bouquet lying on Nikola’s other side, flowers resting by her thigh.</p><p>“Sorry I couldn’t put up a better show then,” Jane chuckles, “You sure you don’t wanna catch up with your friends?”</p><p>“More like coworkers, not everyone in theater likes each other.”</p><p>“I can imagine it’s one hell of a sitcom,” Jane nods and they’re sitting close enough their knees and shoulders brush on their own, unprompted. “Still…”</p><p>“I’d prefer this. Unless you want me gone.”</p><p>“I don’t.”</p><p>“Good.” And they sit, Nikola lightly swinging her feet, and Jane has to stop staring at her before she’s caught, instead opting to tilt her head up.</p><p>There are stars, barely visible with the light pollution but they’re there. She nudges Nikola’s leg with her hand and points up, “Look.”</p><p>Jane hadn’t been out late enough recently to see the night sky like this, and the expanse of it is traditionally beautiful, peppered with so many small dots… He mother used to tell her they were breathing holes someone had poked through the cup they covered our world in. And now, her head leaned back almost to the point of straining, Jane notices she’s accidentally leaned right against Nikola’s shoulder. Nikola is a sturdy, reliable rest against which Jane finds no issue trusting her weight.</p><p>When she glances down, Nikola isn’t looking at the stars at all. Instead, her eyes are studying Jane’s skateboard and the neon yellow, almost reflective worm-on-a-string painted on it. Jane tilts it so it’s less in the shadow and smiles, “I don’t know why, but I like them a lot. Used to have one as a kid too.”</p><p>Nikola only hums in return and reaches over to touch the spray paint protected under a layer of sealer. Jane continues, “They’re a pretty neat mix of something most find horrible and something that brings joy… I actually use <em>worm on a string </em>as most of my account names… Don’t try to find me on twitter though, it’s mostly embarrassing poetry.”</p><p>Nikola looks up at her with sharp, startling speed.</p><p>She’s suddenly frowning, staring at Jane with an intensity that’s supposed to mean something, but Jane isn’t catching on, suddenly scared she’d said something wrong, “What?”</p><p>“You write under the worm penname too?”</p><p>“Uh, yeah? If I have to use one.”</p><p>Nikola’s stare softens, turning almost hopeful, she suddenly looks like she doesn’t want to say what she’s about to but pushes on with it anyway, “The poem on the corkboard, did you write that?”</p><p>Jane had completely, utterly forgotten. She gulps but there’s no accusation in Nikola’s voice, only a severe kind of urgency. She hadn’t pulled away either, they’re still sitting shoulder to shoulder, except Nikola’s turned to bore her eyes into Jane.</p><p>To hells with it, and Jane smiles, nervous more than anything, “Maybe?”</p><p>Nikola exhales as if she’d been holding her breath for weeks and mumbles, “Oh thank god,” and before Jane can make much of it, she’s looking at her again and Nikola asks, quietly, “Is it okay if I kiss you?”</p><p>“Wow,” is all Jane can stammer, brain failing to catch up until it finally <em>does </em>and she nods, sharply enough to give herself whiplash and answers, “Yes.”</p><p>Nikola grins then, wide and unrestrained, none of her on-stage shit and instead completely genuine, and leans in. Her lips leave the aftertaste of heavy make-up and she’s definitely consumed a handful of mints backstage and Jane can even guess they were berry flavored. It’s wonderful and quiet and so fucking unbelievable that she doubts Amherst will even let her finish talking before he calls it all a lie.</p><p>But it’s not, it’s absolutely real and when they pull away Jane can feel herself begin to smile uncontrollably, and can see the same echoed on Nikola’s face.</p><p>“You wrote that poem, then? Damn, and here I’d spent a month wishing it wasn’t Elias and a few weeks wishing it’d been you.”</p><p>“No way,” Jane giggles, “I thought you’d like… I don’t know, bully me if you found out I’d been the author… All along, then? I’d wondered if you were into girls.”</p><p>“To parrot your own words back to you, I like theater. How about I buy you coffee again.” Nikola bumps their shoulders, smile playful, “This time as a real date and not a fake one under the pretense of debt repayment or whatever.”</p><p>Jane marvels at her, in the lamplight of the best night so far, “Yeah, sounds good.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>and that's it! this hasn't been beta read but ill probably go back and reread it eventually just to fix typos if i see any but thanks for sticking along! i hope everyone had a great ride~</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>im super tired so i'm gonna write pt 2 as a seperate chapter plus this is getting a bit too long so .. yes i accept the pitchfork party against me for the cliffhanger ;*</p></blockquote></div></div>
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